


Stigma

by Legume_Shadow



Series: Whispers (Prequels to the Echoes Series) [7]
Category: Peacemaker Kurogane
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 22:24:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2598668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legume_Shadow/pseuds/Legume_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orphans, spies, swordsmen; it doesn't matter who you are, for there will always be a stigma that once born, cannot be removed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stigma

**Author's Note:**

> First Publishing: AO3, November 2014. All copyrights apply to the appropriate parties and no profit is being made from this fanwork.

**Part** **6: Stigma**

_Spring 1862_

 

“Na, Tetsu,” Tatsu said as he sponged the cloth in the cool well water and wiped down his brother's back, “think you can stay here and be good while I go see if Takayama-san at the accounting shop will take me back in?”

“Yeah,” Tetsu answered in a listless tone.

“I found a copy of a book for you to read too,” Tatsu said, placing the cloth down and reached over to take the dusty old book that sat on a stack of crates next to him. Hitting it lightly against him, he managed to get most of the dirt off, but it was still quite tattered, and thus, he didn't try to give it a vigorous shake. The book itself was a little more advanced reading level than he knew what Tetsu could understand, but it was the cheapest he could find at the bookstore they had passed yesterday.

He knew that his brother loved to read more fictional adventure books, especially since he was at that age where childhood and the responsibilities of adulthood were merging. However, there were only fresh new copies of those types of books. He had promised his mother and father to raise his little brother in the best way possible, and he needed his brother to understand that he could no longer live in fiction or fictional universes – they needed to survive in the real world.

It had only been two months since their parents had been killed, and for those two months, Tetsu had been so quiet – he had barely uttered two words to him each day. Tatsu had let his brother be, for he himself had not made it back to the house in time to rescue his parents and only arrived to see his brother screaming and crying among the ashes of the burned down house.

His first instinct had been to get his brother and him out of there, for it had been one of his father's associates down in Osaka, where he, Tatsu, had worked for the accountant, Takayama, who had alerted him to trouble at home. His second instinct had been to find a way to survive – to eat, to have a roof over their heads, and to ensure that he had enough money to provide for his brother. Guilt gnawed at his consciousness everyday for not even bothering to go back to what was left of their home to bury their mother and father, but he was more concerned about the now and the near-future than to hunt down whoever had attacked his family.

“Here,” he said, handing his brother the book, to which Tetsu took it, and he saw him gingerly open it. Confucius’s name was spelled out on the cover, and though he, Tatsu, had read a copy of that particular manuscript before, it at least had good ideas and values that he knew would benefit and help further educate Tetsu.

Tetsu silently put down the book, and Tatsu helped his brother get dressed again. As Tetsu picked back up the book, sitting himself to the side of the alleyway, Tatsu gave him a pat on the head and said, “I'll be back soon.”

With his young brother fully engrossed in the book, he left, joining the crowds in Osaka and hurried on his way to the accountant's shop. He had only been working for Takayama for two years, but it only because of the recommendation from one of his father's contacts in this great port city that he had secured an apprenticeship with Takayama. However, he had left the shop with barely a word and only a note as soon as news had come in about his family. He was not sure what awaited him when he returned.

As expected, there was barely a soul lingering around the accountant's store front. Most people did not linger in front of those types of shops, since the services offered were conducted not in the shop, but at other places. Accountants from Takayama's shop were hired out for a percentage of the commission they made, but they were among the best trained to operate in this enormous city.

Though Tatsu knew how to speak and understand at least one of the foreign languages that foreigners used, he had not advertised his skills to Takayama upon accepting the apprenticeship here. It was mainly because of overhearing the things that his parents had spoken of, when they thought their children had been fast asleep. People from the western part of the country were starting to become quite antagonistic towards foreigners, and the Shogun and people to the east of this region were cracking down on trade with foreigners. Ever since the Shogun had passed the edict that proclaimed that all trade with France, England, and many other countries, had to go through Shogun-designated officials, unofficial translators had made themselves scarce.

Tatsu wasn't sure if being a translator or having even the ability to understand and speak the a foreign language was considered a 'trading' commodity, but apparently, most people around here did. Thus he did not want to get Takayama or his business in trouble and had not volunteered his linguistic skills.

Entering the shop, he blinked to quickly let his eyes adjust and saw Takayama quietly talking with a customer. He could hear the faint _click_ of abacus beads being shifted around from the back of the shop by accountants doing their clients' numbers. Waiting by the corner, he caught his former master's eyes, but did not approach. It was only a few minutes later that Takayama was done with the customer and satisfied with whatever transaction that had been completed, the customer left.

Bowing deeply towards Takayama, who had now fixed his unreadable gaze onto him, Tatsu said, “I apologize for leaving without proper notice, sir. A dire family emergency called me back home.”

“So I heard, Ichimura-san,” the accountant said in a neutral tone. “Unfortunately, I cannot take you back.”

“But...” Tatsu started, raising his head back up, “why? I promise to doubly make up whatever I have missed in these past few months and to give three-quarters of all my fees to the business. Please, Takayama-san, I need this job. My little brother--”

He immediately stopped speaking as the accountant held up a hand to silence him. With a shake of his head, the accountant gave a sigh and said, “I sympathize with your plight, Ichimura, but you won't be able to find a job here in Osaka. Whatever reputation your father had cultivated here, it's gone – many of us, including some of your father's contacts, don't know whether or not your father was associated with pro-foreigner extremists. We heard that he and your mother were killed by those professing _sonno-joi_. We don't want any of that extremism here.”

“But _I'm_ not my father,” he protested.

“Really?” Takayama said affecting surprise, though his tone suggested otherwise. “And what will customers say when they see you and see that you look just like your father? My business cannot survive if people know that I am harboring someone who looks like your father, even though you may be completely free of any of his wrong doings.”

As much as Tatsu wanted to say ' _it's not fair_ ' he didn't – it was a childish thing to say, and he was many years removed from childhood and immaturity. Instead, he resigned himself to the circumstances and gave a nod towards Takayama, saying, “Thank you, Takayama-san, for the information, and for giving me a chance here. I wish you the best of luck for the future.”

With another bow towards the accountant, Tatsu then left and slowly made his way through the crowds, back to where he had left Tetsu. He found his little brother still sitting in the alleyway, and though he had not been gone long, it seemed that Tetsu was a faster reader than he had thought otherwise. His little brother had nearly read two-thirds of the manuscript.

“Hey, Tetsu, I'm back,” he said, crouching down so that he was face-to-face with him.

Strangely though, he saw that the usual blank expression that had graced his brother's face for the past months was gone, as Tetsu slowly looked up from reading. That expressionless face had been replaced by one of clear anger and there was a hostility in Tetsu's eyes that Tatsu had never seen before.

“Why are we wasting our time here, Tatsu-nii?” his brother bluntly asked.

“What?” he answered, baffled at just how harsh of words that had been almost spit out by his brother.

“We should be looking for our parents' killer,” Tetsu said, closing the manuscript and set it to the side. “Why aren't you looking for their murderer? Why are we here? What's the point?”

“Tetsu,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm, for his brother's anger was infectious and he could feel himself getting angrier by the second. However, it was not because of Tetsu's questioning, but the motive behind it. “We need to eat tonight. I was trying to find a job--”

“Who cares about that?” his brother interrupted. “Our parents are dead, and the person who killed them is still free! They're not resting easy--”

“Don't,” he hissed, leaning in so that his nose was almost touching his brother's nose. “Don't you dare lecture me about our parents. They're gone and I'm trying to make sure we survive, Tetsu. They wanted us to survive. I don't have time to think about revenge.”

His little brother held his defiant gaze just a moment longer before looking away. Tatsu leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, softly saying, “I understand why you're thinking that way, Tetsu, but they wouldn't have wanted us to throw away our lives just to avenge them.”

“You don't know that,” his brother said after a few moments of silence.

“No, I don't,” he admitted, nodding.

He saw Tetsu sigh deeply before looking back at him, his eyes now sullen, but no longer listless and expressionless. Something had happened to his brother in the brief amount of time that he had been gone to speak with Takayama, and Tatsu knew for sure that it was not the manuscript he had given his brother to read. He didn't inquire as to what happened though, preferring to thank the gods above for the fact that his brother was no longer mute and had begun showing emotions again.

“I'm sorry,” Tetsu apologetically said.

“It's okay,” he answered, patting his brother on the head. “I'm here for you, always.”

The edges of his young brother's lips quirked up slightly in a faint smile, and a moment later, Tetsu asked, “So, did you get your job back?”

“No,” he answered, shaking his head slightly. “But it's okay. Osaka has too many accountants anyhow. I think I'll have better luck if we go to Kyoto. What do you say?” The stigma of his father's reputation was something that his little brother did not need to know about. The further away from Osaka and from people who might recognize him, they were, the better.

There was a moment's pause before Tetsu broke into a wide smile and said, “Let's go!”

* * *

_Meanwhile, in Edo..._

 

The lightly sweet scent of cherry blossoms filled his nose with every breath he took in, and he couldn't help but smile as he stopped and briefly closed his eyes. Fully bloomed sakura trees were lined up and down the path, and though the area was filled with a variety of people, from the prim and proper high-born samurai to the neatly dressed commoners, it was not too crowded. There were plenty of places around Edo that people walked around during the spring time – it was also one of the rare times where societal rank really did not come into conflict with the mingling of people.

It was also the perfect time for one of the shinobi groups in Edo to host yet another 'open training session'. However, this time, he had not stumbled into the session, but rather had been sitting at the base of this particular tree for a while before seeing a group of people set up on the far side of the area. A few curious people had also stayed to watch, while others merely glanced at the many young trainees (being berated by their instructors), and hurried along. The stigma of being seen or associated with shinobi was still quite prominent, and Souji knew that it would never die.

“Souji!”

Souji opened his eyes and turned his head slightly at the calling of his name by a familiar voice. He looked over to see a woman wearing a plain, light-colored springtime kimono, walking quickly towards him. It took him a moment to register who it was, and his smile got wider. “Aya,” he said, as his friend, whom he had not seen in a very long time, stopped before him. “It has been too long.”

“Going back to the dojo?” she asked, as she stopped before him and gestured to the bags that he had placed next to him on some gnarled roots of the sakura tree. One was a bulky bag that contained his practice armor, and the other, a slim, long one, contained his bokken and shinai. His daisho pair was sitting on the grass, on the other side of him.

“Yes,” he said, nodding. “I was back home for a quick break.” Though his brother-in-law's long ago warning about associating with shinobi still echoed in his mind after all these years, to him, Aya was a friend – someone he missed seeing and talking to. Surely no one around knew that this woman in front of him was a shinobi and that it was all right for him to just talk to her with no consequences.

“May I sit?” she asked. He nodded and she sat near his bags, saying, “I'm supposed to be helping Ayumu with her brother's training, but they can wait.”

“Is she also around?” he asked, looking around, but did not see another friendly, familiar face in the crowds or among the shinobi trainees and their instructors.

“She's not in this area,” Aya replied, shaking her head slightly. “I will tell her that you say hello.”

“Please do,” he gratefully said. “How...how are you?”

“These turbulent times keep me busy,” he heard her reply, though there was a shortness to her answer that told him that he should not press further. He didn't know what she did as a shinobi, but from the tone of her voice, he could tell that she was infrequently in the city. “How about you?”

“We have also been hearing rumors of a lot of unrest near and around Kyoto. There are also rumors that in response to the Emperor's request for the Shogun to do something about the foreigners, that a representative of the Shogun will be dispatched. Kondou-san wants to petition the Shogun to form a group to be a part of that representative group. That is why I was here – I tried to ask Rintarou-niisan for help, but I do not know if he will be successful,” he told her.

“You want to go to Kyoto?”

“I want to do something, and do not want to stay here in Edo. Not while there are so many rumors of hostility to the west,” he admitted. “There is another person who could help us, but I do not know him well and only have met him once when he came to visit the dojo. That man mostly talked to Kondou-san, but his name is Serizawa Kamo.”

“I've heard of him,” she said, as he glanced over and saw a contemplative look on her face that turned into a furrowing of her eyebrows as she thought about it some more. “I don't know much about him, but supposedly, he has social connections to the daimyo of Aizu.”

“Hmm...” he started, then trailed off as he saw a smile blossom on her face.

“Look at us,” she said, laughing a bit, “we're now all grown up and walking in footsteps that we've never thought otherwise. You, a well-mannered samurai, and me, a shinobi with information that may help your cause.”

Despite the sunny smile she gave him, he could not bring himself to feel that happy. Yes, they had grown up, but he saw that they had also grown into the social classes that they had been born into, and it saddened him slightly. “Thank you for the information,” he politely replied, holding back words he actually wanted to say.

It had been pure chance that he had yet again, bumped into the man named Sakamoto Ryouma only a few days ago while traveling from the dojo to his family's villa. Though the encounter had been much more pleasant and less awkward than what had happened years ago, there had been a fire burning in Sakamoto's eyes that made him, Souji, curious. It was then that Souji had been introduced to the western concept of a class-less societal system, and instantly, he knew that it was a very dangerous idea.

The fact that Sakamoto freely told him about it when the two of them had sat down for tea (Souji paid for the tea, for he wanted to apologize for blindly bumping yet again into Sakamoto) at the nearest shop, made him wary of Sakamoto. Sakamoto seemed like a honorable samurai, but the fact that there were all of these strange, foreign ideas in the man's head was puzzling. He wasn't sure if Sakamoto was a part of the unrest brewing to the west.

However, as alluring as the idea of a class-less society had been, Souji had not told anyone about Sakamoto's idea. He gave Sakamoto the benefit of the doubt with the fact that the Tosa domain was more exposed to possible passing foreign ships, and that notions of foreign concepts could be gleaned from it. It was Aya's words that made him remember the idea, but he did not want to tell her about it. He did not want to put anyone, especially his friends and family in danger from possible 'foreign influence' from him. The Shogun and Emperor were both already uneasy – he did not need to add fuel to that fire.

“Something else is bothering you, Souji,” Aya suddenly stated, bringing him out of his thoughts.

There was an unspoken invitation for him to talk, for he knew that she spoke in a forward manner, when it was highly unusual for any woman to do so. As much as he wanted to attribute it to the fact that she was a shinobi and needed to possibly present information in a clear and concise manner, he didn't. There was another woman he knew, Takagi Tokio, who had a similar type of mannerism; but she was definitely more distant and oblique in speech.

So he took the invitation and said, “My brother-in-law and sister are pressuring me to find a suitable wife in exchange for their help with the Shogun's petition.”

“Really?” she said, surprised.

He thought he had heard a slight strain in the tone of her voice, but wasn't sure, for there was a mischievous glint in her eyes as he glanced at her. Returning his gaze to the beautifully pink blossoms above, he said, “I told them that I think I might have found someone, but to tell you the truth, I am unsure.”

“Unsure as to their request or to this woman you've found?” she inquired.

“Both,” he answered, shaking his head slightly. His own train of thoughts was starting to head towards a dangerous path he did not want to attempt to explore, much less have it settle in his mind. He knew that it was highly improper for him to even consider having those thoughts. In an effort to turn his thoughts away, he said, “I believe Serizawa-san may give Kondou-san and the rest of us a better advantage in a successful petition than my brother-in-law can.”

“Then--” Aya began, but was interrupted by someone shouting out her name.

Souji looked back down and saw an unusually tall, pregnant woman approach, dressed in muted colors of a spring kinomo. He faintly recognized the woman, remembering that he had seen her before, though not pregnant, but could not remember where or when. His puzzlement at the identity of the woman was broken when Aya immediately scrambled up, happily exclaiming, “Haruka-nee!”

He too, stood up, with his memory jogged and remembered that he had only met the woman that Aya called her elder half-sister once before, when he had been very young. He didn't remember much, but at the present, both Aya and her older sister looked as if they had not seen each other for a while. Picking up his bags, he slung them back over his shoulders and placed his swords back into their proper place at his side, but before he could make to leave, he felt a tug on his sleeve and glanced over to see Aya beckoning him to stay for a moment.

“Haruka, do you remember Okita Souji?” Aya asked, gesturing to him as the pregnant woman stopped before them. “Souji, this is Machimaki Haruka.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you again, Okita-dono,” Aya's half-sister said, bowing slightly.

“It has been quite a while,” he answered, inclining his head slightly towards her.

“Please pardon my rudeness for a moment, Okita-dono,” Haruka began then shifted her attention to Aya. “Aren't you supposed to be helping Ayumu today, Aya?”

“Watching mom berate the trainees is fun,” Aya said, grinning in quite a silly manner. “Also, Souji's here and we haven't seen or talked to each other for a long time. I'd like to catch up with my friends once in a while, neesan.”

Amusement filled him as he saw Haruka shake her head slightly and was reminded of his own sister. Mitsu had been usually tolerable to a degree towards his actions when he had been a child, but it seemed that all older sisters had the same reactions when faced with the impossible from their younger siblings.

“She's being much too harsh on them today,” Haruka answered, continuing to shake her head. “The other instructors are meting out punishment in moderation, but I don't know what's come over her.”

Curious, for he had not been paying too much attention during his infrequent observations of the training session today, he spoke up, saying, “Perhaps it is the trainees who are uncomfortable with many people watching them in public?”

Aya shook her head, saying, “That's the purpose of these types of sessions. There goes mom again with yet another lecture.” She gestured towards an instructor in the distance who had currently stopped a small group of trainees with whatever exercise they had been doing. The woman was dressed in loose-flowing garments that almost hid identifying markers of her gender, but had her head wrapped up to hide her face. Though Souji could not identify the woman by face, he recognized her by her movements, for even though she was quite unobtrusive whenever present, he always noticed her whenever he was at home.

The woman that Aya had identified as her mother was none other than the woman he knew as Sakura, Mitsu's shinobi bodyguard.

Though he was surprised, he managed to keep it from showing on his face, but merely nodded. He wasn't sure if Aya knew that her mother was his sister's bodyguard, and a thought nagged at him that told him he should not mention it. Whether or not it stemmed from the warning that his brother-in-law had given him long ago, he didn't know.

Fortunately, he was further distracted from saying anything else as he saw someone familiar stroll along the path that took the person past the shinobi trainees. Though Serizawa Kamo practically ignored the shinobi, he carried himself with a slight enough arrogance that it caused other people to notice him. Souji was not keen on leaving Aya, but to not speak with Serizawa now was to waste an opportunity. He didn't know if Serizawa would visit the dojo again. After a few moments of thought, he resigned himself to the thought that perhaps there would be time later that he could continue catching up with Aya.

“I apologize for having to do this, Aya, and Machimaki-san,” he said bowing slightly towards them, “but there is someone whom I just saw enter here that I urgently need to speak to.”

“That samurai?” Haruka asked, gesturing to Serizawa, who had stopped before an enormous sakura tree to admire it.

“Yes,” he answered, nodding. “That man is Serizawa Kamo.”

“Good luck then, Souji,” Aya said, smiling. “I'm sure that you and the others will be successful in your petition to go to Kyoto. Until we meet again.”

“Until we meet again.”

* * *

_At the same time in another part of Edo..._

 

“Straighten that back, Susumu!”

Susumu grimaced under all the makeup that he had worn for this disguise as he felt a twinge of pain roll up his spine, trying to maintain his poise in such confining clothes that he had been wrapped in. Added to the weight of the heavy fabric from the kimono was the fact that he had worn a wig that was done up with several adornments, hair pieces, and accessories. How a woman survived walking in such finery was beyond his comprehension and it had given him a new found respect for whenever they wore something like this.

“Smile!” Ayumu snapped at him.

Schooling his grimace as best as he could into a smile, he pleaded with his sister though his eyes to make it stop and let him at least sit down. He had been standing in various positions with a springtime parasol as an accessory for a while now, while trying to maintain what his sister had called 'proper lady etiquette and poise'.

He heard a young girl giggle, and turned his head slightly towards the sound. For that movement, he earned a light tap on his wrists with a closed fan. Had he not been in disguise, that tap would have turned into a slap not on his wrists, but on his face. However, they were somewhat in public, despite the distinct lack of crowds in this area near one of Edo's many temples.

Returning his attention, to his sister, he maintained the smile on his lips, feeling the strain of his face muscles as he kept his expression as pleasant as possible. Young Nakamura Mayuka, the girl whom he had sort of befriended a couple of years ago when he had noticed her watching him and others train, was standing under the shade of a tree in the temple area. It was her laughter that he had heard and thus turned to see who it had been. He knew that his inattention would be addressed tonight – not only by Ayumu, but others who Ayumu would report this session to.

At the age of fifteen, he knew that he was already past the age where most shinobi already had their first assignments handed out to them. He, however, was still 'in training', and he hated it. He wanted to go, wanted to serve, wanted to go to where the unrest was; to stay seemed like a certain dead end in his career. His petitions to his sister and to other trainers to allow him to complete his training fell on deaf ears, and he was beginning to resent the fact that he had agreed to Ayumu personally training him. They were not brother and sister anymore – they were captive and taskmaster.

“Now start walking,” Ayumu ordered.

He did as he was told, keeping one foot in front of the other as steadily as possible, for it was hard to keep his balance between the high wooden sandals, confining kimono, and the wig that he was wearing. He dared not glance over at his sister to see if there was an approving or disapproving look on her face. When she told him to stop halfway down the main thoroughfare of the temple's path, he did as he was told.

“Apt,” he heard his sister say as he remained where he was, the fake smile still plastered on his face. “You can stop smiling now, Susumu.”

Relaxing only his face, he kept his poise tall, for it was only his face that he had been given permission to stop pretending to be someone he was not. “Now we go to theory,” Ayumu said, walking up to stand in front of him. “You've caught the eye of a man, your target. He approaches and attempts to seduce you. What do you do?”

“Flirt right back,” he answered without hesitation. “He will eventually give up the information I need to complete my mission.”

“He might,” Ayumu said, nodding, “but he wants to take you to a private room. What do you do?”

He hesitated for a moment before saying, “Allow him to take me to a private room, but do not allow him to undress me. That would blow my cover. To escape--”

“Your target may easily overpower you,” his sister said, shaking her head slightly. “Be demure when he asks to take you to a private room. Return to the nearest safe house and depending on who you're dressed as, we will send out the appropriate kunoichi to complete the mission. Never risk your cover to fulfill a man's sexual pleasure.”

“Understood,” he answered.

“Come, let's walk now,” she said, taking him by the arm as he shifted the parasol to his other hand. “What I am to speak of is not for anyone else around to hear. Smile and look pretty for the crowds, Susumu. Our _Okashira_ has granted you your first assignment.”

He did as he was told, and even though his spirits were lifted with the prospect of his first official assignment, he schooled his expression into a pleasant one that other women walking around would have. As the two of them left the temple grounds and joined in with the hanami-admiring crowds on the streets, he couldn't help but notice that where ever he and his sister walked, people were staring.

Looking down to affect a coy and shy personality, he tipped his parasol slightly forward to give his disguise a more mysterious aura. “Your assignment,” Ayumu spoke in a low, almost unheard whisper, “is to seduce a merchant named Hayami and lead him to the Yoshiwara district. Once there, kunoichi will keep Hayami occupied. He is not your primary target though – his wife is. She has, in her possession, a certain document that contains the code to decipher her husband's accounts. From what we already have gathered, you most likely will have to seduce her to gain access to the sleeping area where it is most likely kept. You have five nights to complete this assignment, starting from tonight.”

“Will I have any other shinobi supporting me besides those already at the Yoshiwara district?” he quietly asked.

“Aya will be supporting you in a limited capacity at the merchant and his wife's house,” she answered. “She has been ordered not to directly interfere with your mission and to only assassinate the target if you fail and die. She's not there to save you.”

His sister's words were cold and heartless, but he was ready for it. They were not brother and sister; they were not family. They were only brother and sister in name. He had trained for all these years to not be dependent on any other shinobi, and he was determined succeed on his first official mission.

“I will not fail,” he confidently stated.

 

~*~*~*~


End file.
